iDrive You Crazy
by SeddieLUV
Summary: Two days. One car. Tons of sexual tension. Will a road trip make Sam and Freddie get along? Seddie
1. Chapter 1: iLap Dance

**Chapter One: iLap Dance**

"You're going to have to leave _something _behind," Carly told Sam, pointing at the massive pile of luggage Freddie was trying to shove into the trunk of Mrs. Benson's silver Prius. "You brought more stuff than even _me_!"

Freddie let out a groan as he attempted to lift another bulging suitcase. "What the fudge is _in here? _It weighs a ton!"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Fudge…just twenty, maybe thirty pounds…"

"Sam!" Carly chastised, looking at the suitcase in disbelief. "You filled ten suitcases with _fudge_?"

"No, only _that _suitcase has fudge. But I also brought ham and low-fat fat cakes."

Carly opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by the sound of Freddie yelling. He had dropped Sam's heavy suitcase on his foot and was hopping around, holding his foot, and muttering swear words under his breath. Sam only caught, "…ham…demon…crossword puzzle…"

Sam snickered as she watched Freddie fall over. That nub had as much balance as her three-legged cat Frothy.

Carly sighed. "It won't all fit, and now you've injured Freddie. We have to leave the fat cakes behind."

Sam gasped and went to stand protectively in front of her snacks. "_No fat cake gets left behind," _she growled, crossing her arms.

Carly held up her hands in surrender and backed away slowly. She felt like she had just awoken an angry bear in the middle of hibernation. "Just a suggestion…"

_We may have to leave Freddie behind._

After much arguing, Carly managed to make an agreement. All of Sam's stuff could stay…if she rode shotgun and Freddie drove while Carly rode in the backseat with her luggage and Frothy, who Sam had insisted on bringing.

Sam and Freddie weren't too keen on the idea of sitting next to each other for the two-day road trip. Carly knew only two of the three friends would most likely return, but as long as she got to enjoy the road trip, she could accept it. She might even murder one of them herself if it meant she could get a little peace and quiet.

"Would you just pick a station?" Freddie groaned as Sam leaned forward to change the radio station for the millionth time. "I'm trying to drive here! Do you have any idea how distracting it is when you're listening to a Ginger Fox song that suddenly becomes country?"

"Do _you _have any idea how many ways I could kill you with a ketchup bottle?" Sam retorted, glaring at him. "Nineteen, Freddie. Nineteen."

Freddie gulped. Fortunately Sam didn't touch the radio again when "Running Away" by AM came on. He eyed the blonde girl nervously, wondering if she remembered that this song had been playing in the background the night they'd shared their first kiss. Was she also thinking about that night? Probably not. It was more likely that Sam was thinking about fried chicken than _him_. It was just fine by him.

"Hey, is that Robin's Wieners?" Sam asked suddenly. She dropped the fat cake she was chewing and leaned across Freddie to stare out his window.

Freddie grimaced. Sam was practically laying on his lap! She was so close he could smell her meat-scented perfume. "Sam, get off me! I can't drive when you're giving me a lap dance!"

Sam moved back to her seat and smirked. "That wasn't a lap dance, Frednub. But I can understand why you made the mistake. _That _was the closest you're ever going to get to sexual contact."

"I could get sexual contact!"

"Stroking the keyboard of your laptop doesn't count."

"Knock it off, you two!" Carly piped up from the backseat. "I'm trying to sleep. Frothy is making it hard enough." There was a hiss from the backseat. "I think he's trying to rape me! Oh my God, this is like the goat on my birthday all over again," she wailed.

"It's his fault," Sam muttered. She wrinkled her nose at the cloying scent coming from Freddie. "Ugh! You smell like roses! Dude, you gotta stop buying cologne from the local hobos."

"It's not cologne!" Freddie said. "It's women's perfume. It's going to help me attract girls since they obviously like the smell. That's why they buy it themselves." He smiled smugly at Sam. "It's called 'Passion'."

Sam let out a groan and dropped her head in her hands. "Two days with _him? _I can't take it…"

"Oh, like being near you gives me such euphoria."

"The only thing that's keeping you alive is the fact that I like my meat _fresh." _Sam turned her body as far away from Freddie as possible and stared out the window, frowning, until she saw something that made her whole face light up. "And speaking of meat, I really see Robin's Wieners this time! Pull over," she demanded.

Freddie, wanting to keep his eyeballs _inside _his head, pulled over to the side of the road by the hot dog stand.

"Want me to bring you back a hot dog?" Freddie asked Carly. She had abandoned all hope of getting any sleep. Instead, she was eyeing the cat suspiciously.

"No, that's okay," she said fearfully. "I think food would only put Frothy in the mood."

"In the mood for _what_?"

"Don't ask. Just go buy Sam a hot dog before there's a repeat of last time."

"Hey!" Sam protested, a smile on her face. "That was an emergency. Mom didn't feed me for a whole week and your fridge had nothing but tofu in it. It's not my fault that Rabbi just happened to walk by with food when I was so hungry."

"Still," Freddie added, rolling his eyes, "was it really necessary to steal his _hat _too?"

Sam shrugged. "I needed to get _something _for my mom's boyfriend's birthday."

Carly laughed. "But you got him arrested."

"Too bad for him." Bored with the conversation, Sam cheered and ran toward the stand, her mouth watering at the heavenly smell of pork.

Freddie managed to convince her to only buy a dozen hot dogs by promising he would buy her two dozen on the way back to Seattle; Sam reluctantly agreed.

After watching Sam inhale six hot dogs in under a minute, Freddie lost his appetite and was ready to get back sure Carly hadn't been raped by Frothy.

"Come on, Sam. You've made me very poor, now let's get back before Frothy tries to make a move on Carly."

Sam was too busy munching on a hot dog to hear Freddie, small sounds of pleasure escaping her mouth. Food undoubtedly made her happier than sex ever could.

Suddenly Freddie heard a scream. "Sam, we really have to go!" he shouted, grabbing her wrist and trying to drag her to the car.

"Get your hand off me," Sam threatened, "unless you want me to eat it. I've got some extra mustard."

"But Carly is-"

"I mean it, Freddie! I've got a rape whistle." Sighing, Freddie released her, and Sam resumed eating one of Robin's Wieners with a smile on her face. She had won this round.

**A/N: Like it? Hate it? If you did, leave a review. If you didn't…go buy a plant to fill the empty hole in your life AND leave a review. **

**P.S. Not convinced? If you don't leave me a review…I'll hunt you down using only a duck. And I got a guy with a duck on speed dial.**

**P.P.S. This will either be a two-shot or a three-shot. **


	2. Chapter 2: iStare You Down

**Chapter Two: iStare You Down**

"Carly! We're coming!" Freddie shouted as he and Sam ran toward the car once Sam finally finished eating. They yanked open the door to the backseat and a ball of fur flew out, nearly giving Freddie a heart attack.

"You okay, Carls?" Sam asked. When she heard a small "yes" in response, Sam turned to Freddie and smiled. "See? I told you she was fine."

Freddie's brown eyes narrowed angrily as he stared down the blonde girl and resisted the urge to look away. _No! _he told himself. _I will not look away first! I'm just as tough as she is! I just have to…what is she doing?_

He watched in confusion as Sam slowly removed her jacket, revealing the bare tan skin beneath the V-neck tank top she wore. As hard as he tried to keep eye contact with Sam, Freddie felt his eyes travel down to her chest. It was so low-cut Freddie could see actual cleavage…

Sam just smirked, shaking her head. She knew Freddie couldn't resist. It was strange how he was _still _staring, though. She wasn't Carly. It was disgusting how he loved her and followed her around like a lost puppy.

Scowling, Freddie turned away from Sam and looked at Carly, who was still inside the car. "You sure you're okay?"

Carly groaned and brushed cat hair off her clothes. "Yes," she answered unhappily. She had scratches on her arms that Frothy left when he had pounced on her. "But that _thing _has to ride with Sam for the rest of the trip."

Freddie sighed. He didn't want Frothy up front near him either. "Is it really _that _bad? He's just a cat."

"Yeah…a sex-crazed cat!" shouted Carly. "And I turn it on too much. And I _am _going to return home a virgin!" She crossed her arms and frowned. "Understood?"

Freddie nodded. He was starting to feel like this trip was just a way for the girls to boss him around. He looked around for Frothy, who had disappeared. "Go find him and bring him back," he instructed Sam.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't take orders from nubs." But she wanted to find Frothy before he got into any trouble, so she went off to search for her pet.

She found him several minutes later, trying to get to the hot dogs on the stand at Robin's Wieners. He hissed when she picked him up and tried to jump out of her arms but Sam held him tight and carried the squirming cat back to the car. Once they were there, Frothy forgot all about food and curled up in a ball on Sam's lap.

They had been on the road again for ten minutes when the bickering started again. Sam wasn't the kind of person who could handle boredom well. A person could only play the license plate game for so long before she totally lost it. And Frothy wasn't entertaining at all. Of all the times she really needed him to do _something _interesting, he chose to sleep.

She was so bored, she was actually considering singing lame car songs with Freddie. It had cometo_ that._

Sam started humming "99 bottles of beer on the wall" just to see what Freddie's reaction would be. She only made it through the first three seconds of the song before he threatened to start talking about tech stuff. She quickly stopped humming and shoved a fat cake in her mouth as a distraction.

"_Another _fat cake?" Freddie asked in disbelief. How many fat cakes had she _brought? _"Don't you ever get tired of eating so many?"

"I only get tired of seeing you face."

"Oh yeah? Well…you're a…" Freddie struggled to think of a witty comeback. "You…eat a lot!"

Sam finished chewing and patted Freddie's shoulder, making him tense up nervously. The car swerved wildly to the right. She was _touching _him! What was she going to do? Rip his arm off? Make confetti with it? Grill it in barbecue sauce and eat it?

"Don't worry, Freddie," Sam said, a smile on her face. "I promise if I ever have to choose between you and the fat cakes, you'll come in a _very close _second."

"Good to know." Freddie should have been looking at the road, but he was afraid Sam would attack him if he looked away for just a second. She was probably waiting for the perfect moment.

"You're cute when you're scared."

_What game is she playing?_

Freddie stared suspiciously at her. "Then you must really want to throw yourself on me, because I'm terrified."

Sam shrugged. "Eh. I bet you're still not cute enough to make Carly want you." Her eyes narrowed as she waited to see what Freddie thought. Was he disappointed? Did he wish she would?

"Why does that bother you so much?" Freddie asked suddenly, surprising Sam. She hadn't been expecting _that _question. "Why does the thought of me and Carly make you want to puke up blood?"

Sam rolled her eyes and stared out the window, avoiding him. "Carly deserves better."

"Are you sure that's why?"

"What other reason is there?"

"I don't know…you tell me."

Sam groaned and punched Freddie hard in the shoulder. "Whatever. I wish you and Carly the very best," she snapped, glaring at him.

Neither one of them knew what to say next, so they didn't say anything.

**A/N: Sorry this is kind of short. The next chapter will be longer. This was going to be a two-shot…but I don't want to end the story like this. So maybe a three-shot? **

**Did you love it? Hate it? Leave a review! You know you want to. You can feel your fingers trying to type…don't resist. You won't be able to eat or sleep until you review this! **

**You have been warned. **


	3. Chapter 3: iHave Car Trouble

**Chapter Three: iHave Car Trouble**

"Sam, wake up," Freddie whispered, shaking the blonde girl's shoulder. She was stretched out across the front seat with her legs on Freddie's lap. "Wake up!"

"Nurgh…" Sam groaned, swatting Freddie away while keeping her eyes closed. "Just five more hours…"

"What does nurgh mean?"

"It's Italian for nub." Even in her sleep, Sam was cranky.

Freddie sighed. "I stopped at a gas station. I need you to help me fill up the tank. We're almost empty."

Sam groaned and forced her eyes open. "I thought the 'E' stood for ESPN."

"No…why would you even think…never mind. I don't want to know. Unless you want to push the car all the way to Canada, come help me."

Sam glared at him as she sat up and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Why can't Carly help you? What, a gas station isn't romantic enough for you?" She found the smell of gasoline very attractive.

"Oh, just come on!"

Sam reluctantly climbed out of the car and followed Freddie over to the gas pump. Freddie was surprised when Sam grabbed the nozzle and stuck it inside the square-shaped hole on the side of the car.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" Freddie asked. He knew Pam didn't care enough to teach her how.

"I don't think we have enough time to tell you the story about the pope and the ketchup stain."

"But what does that have to do with…never mind. I don't want to know. It's probably illegal."

"Oh, it is." Sam finished filling the Prius with gas and pointed at the little store in front of them. "Now go pay so we can get back on the road. I want to get to Canada and eat Canadian food!"

"Yes, sir," Freddie laughed, saluting Sam like he was in the military. He started walking toward the store.

"Get me a root beer while you're in there!" Sam shouted behind him. "But if it's diet, I'll kill you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Freddie yelled back as he entered the small air-conditioned store.

He knew Sam would run out of fat cakes before the trip was over, so he picked up twenty more for her. He also got the root beer and checked forty-seven times to make sure it wasn't diet. He accidentally bought her a diet soda once and it hadn't ended well. He could still hear the screams sometimes…

He walked up to the cash register and paid for the snacks and gas. A goth girl with purple streaks in her hair smiled at him as he handed her cash.

"So," she said, twirling a strand of purple hair around her finger, "where are you going?"

Freddie blushed. "Uh…" Where was he going? He couldn't remember! It started with a C… "The place with the maple leaves."

The goth girl giggled. "You mean Canada? Cool. That's where I'm from."

"Sorry about that," Freddie muttered, wanting to get back to Sam and Carly as fast as possible. Was it his imagination, or was she flirting with him?

Goth girl laughed and handed him the items in a paper bag. "Here you go, Freddie."

"I didn't tell you my name."

"I recognize you from iCarly," she explained. "I'm a huge fan. You're my favorite. I wish you would get more screen time."

Freddie forced a smile and picked up the paper bag. "I should really go…"

The goth girl looked disappointed. "Bye. Wait, take this!" She handed him a tube of cinnamon bun-flavored lip gloss. "Something to remember me by."

"That's really…weird…" Freddie rushed out of the store. He sighed with relief when he reached the car. Carly was still asleep and Sam was sitting shotgun, looking impatient.

"What took so long, Fredface?" Sam huffed as Freddie started up the car. "Whatever. Did you get my root beer?"

Freddie handed her the bag and Sam nearly tore it apart to get to the can of soda. "And you got fat cakes!" she cheered, biting into one happily. "Son of a duck, this is good!"

"A duck?" Freddie raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe I didn't need to bring that shovel, Freddie," Sam said, grinning. "If you keep being this useful, I won't have to bury anything…or anyone."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment or a threat?" Freddie gulped and decided to ignore that little comment.

"What's this?" Sam held up the lip gloss and sniffed it suspiciously. "It smells like-"

"Cinnamon buns," interrupted Freddie. "I got it for free. I thought you would like it since it smells like food." He didn't tell her the goth girl gave it to him because she had a crush on him.

"Mama _does _love cinnamon buns." Sam didn't typically wear makeup, but it smelled so good that she smeared some on her lips and licked them. _Yum._

"Try not to chew your whole mouth off," Freddie joked. He didn't stop smiling even when Sam slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Just shut up and drive, will ya? We still have another four years before we reach the Canadian border."

Freddie chuckled. "Did you remember your passport this time?" He still remembered when they had gone on a tour of the fat cake factory and Sam had no way to get back in America.

Sam nodded mischievously. "Yep. I put it somewhere I can't lose it."

Freddie frowned. "Where?"

"You don't want to know."

They drove another fifteen minutes until the car started to slow down. They were out of gas! The car came to a stop in the middle of the road.

"Sam!" Freddie groaned and looked over at her. "What happened? I saw you fill up the tank!"

Sam shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "I guess I forgot to close it."

"How are we supposed to get to Canada now? Or anywhere!"

"Hey, I'm not a…a car enthusiast!" Sam argued. "How was I supposed to know you had to _close _the stupid thing?"

"I don't know…maybe because it's _obvious?"_

"Your sarcasm wounds me, Freddie."

"You wound me all the time! In illegal ways!"

"Don't make me use the butter sock-"

"Calm down, guys!" Carly screamed suddenly. Freddie and Sam shut up and stared back at her. "Arguing won't help. Just go find a hotel to spend the night. It's almost midnight. Tomorrow we can find a car rental place. Okay?"

Sam and Freddie avoided looking at each other and mumbled in agreement. It _was _a good plan.

"We can't just leave the car here," Freddie pointed out. "My mom will murder me if I don't bring them back."

Carly sighed. "Fine. I'll sleep here with…Frothy…while you two go find a hotel. You can send someone to tow the car in the morning."

Freddie got out of the car, but Sam hesitated. "You won't let anything happen to Frothball, right?"

"_Him"? _Carly gasped, offended. "What about _me? _Your cat is probably going to try to do things to me while you're gone. Things that aren't innocent!"

"Oh, chill out, Carls. Frothy is just playing around. He likes you."

"A little too much," Carly grumbled. "Just go ahead. I'll see you in the morning. Don't forget to come back for me!"

Sam got out of the car and shrugged. "Eh. I'm not making any promises."

She and Freddie walked a mile before Sam complained she couldn't go on anymore. Freddie was tempted to leave her. When they finally reached a little motel on the side of the road, he still had no idea how Sam ended up riding piggyback on his back.

"Finally!" Sam collapsed on the bed as soon as they rode the elevator up to the eighth floor.

Freddie's eyes widened. "Uh…Sam?" He scanned the small room. They didn't have enough money to afford two separate rooms.

"Yeah?"

"There's only one bed."

**A/N: This is now officially a multi-chapter fanfic! **

**Sorry there wasn't much Carly in this chapter, but you'll see more of her in the future (and other characters) And did you guys notice the floor number of the motel Freddie and Sam are staying at? Eight? Hmm…the seddie number…interesting…**


	4. Chapter 4: iCan't Sleep

**Chapter Four: iCan't Sleep**

"Stop kicking me!" Freddie complained as Sam jabbed with her foot. "Ow! Sam!"

"It's Karma," Sam replied, keeping her eyes closed as she elbowed Freddie hard in the ribs beneath the covers. "This is all your fault. Sleeping in the same room with you is bad enough, but sleeping in _the same bed_…I'm seriously considering suicide."

"Good. Then at least I can get some sleep. Your dead corpse wouldn't kick me."

Sam sighed and rolled over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "Or maybe I'll just shove a pillow over your face until you stop kicking. Why should I be the one to die?"

"Because I'm the only one who knows how to hide a body."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "What do _you _know about hiding a boy, Freddork? You'll never need to know how. Girls hide from you anyway."

Freddie pretended to laugh. "Very funny, Puckett. But I have plenty of time to think about it while my mom gives me tick baths."

Sam smirked at the image in her head. "She still does that?"

Freddie grimaced and nodded. "Now she only does it twice a year. It's progress."

"If you say so. But you're not the only one who can hide a body."

Freddie rolled onto his side and stared at Sam. "Oh, yeah? How would you get rid of me? What, would you just eat me? Room service can send up a side of fries."

Sam licked her lips at the thought of food. "Tempting…"

"You want me to order something to eat, don't you?" he asked, knowing the answer was yes. He turned the lamp on the nightstand on and reached for a room service menu. Fifteen minutes later they were sitting up in bed eating fried chicken and hot fudge sundaes.

"Too bad Carly isn't here," Sam said as she licked grease off her fingers happily. "This is way better than sleeping in a car with a pervert cat."

"Yeah. I hope she's not lonely out there alone. Frothy isn't the best company."

"Don't insult my cat," Sam warned as she grabbed the last drumstick and bit into it. "And neither are you. She doesn't need you around. You're just wasting your time." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye to see his reaction. He almost looked…upset?

"I got over Carly a long time ago, Sam," he said, frowning at her. "I don't love her. I never loved her. It was just a stupid crush. She's not my type."

Sam scoffed. "Oh, and who _is _your time? Jennifer Lopez?"

Freddie yawned tiredly and shrugged. "I wouldn't say no if J-Lo asked me out."

Sam rolled her eyes. He was making jokes, but she knew he was lying. How could he be over Carly? He'd begged her to be his girlfriend since the sixth grade! And if _she _wasn't his type…who was?

"So, why does it bother you so much anyway?" Freddie asked. He scraped the bottom of the plastic cup for the last spoonful of ice cream. "Why do you care who I like? Even if it was Carly…why does it matter to you?"

Sam didn't answer. She just rolled over she was facing away from Freddie. "I think I'm gonna sleep now. Don't wake me until you've ordered breakfast."

"What did I say?"

"The mere sound of your voice is enough to make me want to cut my ears off like that dead artist," she snapped.

"Well," Freddie sighed, "you're stuck with me and my voice for the next seven hours." The digital clock on the nightstand flashed 2:00 a.m.

Sam responded by throwing a pillow at his head.

**X**

Three hours later, Freddie was woken up by Sam shaking his shoulder. "Wha?" he mumbled, still half asleep.

"You awake, Frednub?"

"Unfortunately, yes. The question is _why."_

Sam shrugged and stopped shaking him. "I can't sleep. I got bored, so I need someone to talk to. You're not my first choice…actually, you're my last choice…but you're still the only other breathing person in this room."

"Um…is there someone _not _breathing in this room?" Freddie managed to open his eyes and stare at the blonde girl beside him.

Sam nodded and pointed at the small bathroom across the room. "He's in the tub. I got up a few minutes ago and found him there, so I poked him with your shoe to make sure he was dead."

Freddie moaned and rolled his eyes. "Of course. Poking a dead man in a bathtub with _my _shoe is the logical thing to do." He sat up and leaned his head back against the headboard of the bed they shared. "But why did you have to me? I need beauty sleep too!"

Sam snickered. "No amount of sleep is going to help, Frederly. You're a lost cause."

"You're still more than a beast than me," Freddie remarked. "Why don't you just count sheep?"

"I already tried that! I counted sheep forward, backward, sideways, and in Spanish. I counted so long the sheep started baaing in a foreign language I don't understand!"

"You have the weirdest dreams."

"I bet they're cooler than the lame dreams you have. Were you dreaming about a shiny new laptop?"

"No…" Freddie shook his head. "I dreamt I had a pickle jar I really needed to open for some reason, but I couldn't get the lid off."

"I don't know why I didn't wake you sooner. This conversation is going to do more than make me fall asleep…it's going to kill me."

"Hey, you asked what I was dreaming about before you rudely interrupted me," he reminded her. "Anyway, I couldn't get the stupid lid off the incredibly important jar, so I asked you to help."

Sam grinned, suddenly interested. "I made a cameo in your dream?"

"Yeah. I guess it's because you're freakishly strong." Freddie shrugged his shoulders. He didn't control his dreams. Sam appearing in his didn't mean anything…right? "But you couldn't get the lid off."

"_What?" _There wasn't a pickle jar in existence that Sam Puckett couldn't open! "What kind of pickles are they? What brand was it? Give me my cell phone, we'll call the 1-800 number and-"

"Sam, you can't call the company at four a.m. to complain about a dream! And we got the pickles."

"We did? How? A blowtorch?"

He shook his head. "No, you just threw the jar on the ground and it broke. But I never found out why they were so special because you ate them."

"Ooh, surprising," Sam joked. "But that story didn't make me tired."

"Well, _I'm _going back to sleep now. You can count more Hispanic sheep or whatever." He flopped back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

Sam frowned. "You can't just leave me all alone! Stay up with me. Wanna watch a movie?"

Freddie murmured, "The only thing I want to see is the inside of my eyelids."

Sam turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. "Ooh! What about Get Smart?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, Freddie," Sam begged. She pointed to the bathroom again. "If you don't watch the movie with me, you'll be sleeping in the tub with the dead guy." When Freddie didn't open his eyes, she shoved him so hard he fell out of bed! "I suggest you watch the movie with me unless you want to wake up with a concussion."

Freddie stared back at her while he rubbed his head, which had broken his fall. "How do you wake up in a coma? That doesn't even make sense! Oh, just forget it. I'll watch the movie with you. I'm just gonna use the bathroom first."

"What about the dead guy?"

Freddie headed toward the bathroom. "There's no dead guy in the tub." Sam was just messing with him. He chuckled to himself as he opened the door. He was too smart to fall for her mind games. He stopped in the doorway when his eyes landed on the tub.

"I told you he was real!" Sam called out as she turned up the volume. Several minutes went by and Freddie didn't return. He was still standing frozen by the tub. "Hey, what's taking so long?"

"The dead guy is waking up."

**A/N: It's been a while, so I made this one longer. I know it's a filler chapter. Just think of it as the calm before the storm ;)**

**Some of ya'll have requested tourist spots (it IS a road trip) so that will come soon! I just got back from a trip to Canada myself and visited Niagara Falls, so I've got some ideas for that…**

**Since you took the time to read this chapter, you can review. It's not like you're busy, or you wouldn't be here (: I find death threats motivate me to update faster, even if I'm constantly looking over my shoulder at every little sound I hear.**


	5. Chapter 5: iWant To Lick You

**Chapter Five: iWant To Lick You**

"Why can't you carry me?" Sam complained as she and Freddie trekked back to the car. Freddie wasn't exactly sure _where _they'd left it, but he wasn't going to tell Sam. She'd hit him repeatedly with the butter sock…and the butter wasn't fresh anymore.

"Because I didn't get any sleep last night," Freddie grumbled irritably. "_Someone _kept me up all night."

"I got bored!" she argued. "And that guy in the bathtub freaked me out."

Freddie stopped walking and stared at her. "_Chester _freaked you out? You didn't seem too scared of him when you were telling him all about my laptop collection."

"The world deserves to know what a geek you are," Sam said innocently, smirking at him. "You _named _them all." She started to list them all. "Rosita, Jenette, Stephanie-"

"I know what their names are!" interrupted Freddie. He was blushing with embarrassment. "But was it really necessary to give the guy sleeping in our tub all the cash we had left? He's a stranger! And he was staying illegally in our hotel room. He could've been a serial killer!"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Don't be so judgmental, nub. Chester told us he only kills people if they know too much about the aliens." She shrugged. "Okay, so he's a little weird…"

"He's crazy and delusional. Of course he's your new best friend."

"Oh, shut up! If I want to befriend a psychotic murderer who believes in aliens, I will! And we are even going in the right direction?" All she saw was a road stretching for miles.

"Uh…yeah." Freddie kept walking, avoiding her gaze. He valued his internal organs too much. "We're almost there…"

"That was really convincing," Sam said sarcastically. "You could be the next Steve Jobs."

"Steve Jobs wasn't an actor, Sam! He designed the pearpad. And he's not even alive!"

"That's _why _I wish you were more like him," she sighed. "Chester offered to 'take care of you' but for some reason I wouldn't let him. It must've been those scones you bought us." She groaned. "Who buys scones from a gas station?"

Freddie glared back at her. "They had a decent pastry section! And if you hated them so much, why did you eat ten of them?"

"Just be glad I ate the stupid scones and not you," she mumbled, squinting at the road ahead of them. "You have no idea where the car is, do you?"

"I'm not a GPS system!"

"Maybe you should consider it. You've got the annoying voice for it."

"Oh, yeah? Well…your voice is annoying too!" _Wow. That was lame, _Freddie thought. He sighed. Why couldn't he ever think of a witty comeback when Sam was around? It was like she turned his brain to mush. He always sounded so stupid in front of her. He shouldn't even care what she thought of him…but he did.

Sam was getting impatient. Her butter-filled sock was tucked inside her shoe. "If we don't find that car soon, I swear I'm gonna-" She stopped talking suddenly as the Prius came into view. It was still on the side of the road where they ran out of gas. "Thank God."

They ran toward the car anxiously and banged on the window until Carly woke up and unlocked the doors.

"Did you guys call a tow truck?" Carly asked as she yawned and stretched. She saw her reflection in the window and frowned. She could've really used a brush.

"Yeah," Freddie answered, "someone will be here soon to take my mom's car." He slid into the front seat beside Sam. "I've got enough money left to pay for gas. We'll be able to finish the road trip as long as we don't buy anything useless...like food or a place to sleep."

Carly shrugged. "Fine. As long as we get to Canada before I turn eighty. I really want to see Niagara Falls!" She held up a brochure she'd found online. "Did you know the Maid of the Mist was built in 1864?"

"Here." Sam handed Freddie her butter sock. "Hit me repeatedly over the head with this until I get amnesia and forget everything Carly just said."

Carly rolled her eyes. "Must you be so dramatic? It's just a fun fact! This is interesting."

"I have a strict no learning policy, Carls," Sam said. "I can't start getting smart _now. _It goes against everything I believe."

"Nice to know you have morals," Freddie snickered.

"I also have muscle, which is something you lack."

"I have muscle!"

Sam snorted. "Your arms are like jello."

Freddie raised his eyebrows at her. "You love jello."

"Who doesn't love jello?" Sam replied, putting her hands on her hips. "I'd love you too, but you don't come in eight different flavors."

"How would you know? You've never licked me."

"Are you offering to let me lick you?"

"Do you _want _to lick me?"

Carly interrupted before Sam could answer. "Guys, stop arguing!" Or flirting…whatever they called it. "The tow truck is here."

Sam hesitated, still staring at Freddie. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn't, so neither did she. She turned away, trying to look busy as she yanked open the door.

The trio climbed out of the Prius and headed for the man leaning up against the strangest car they had ever seen.

"That's your…_truck_?" Carly finally asked. It wasn't even a truck! It was a big white van decorated with huge peace signs and flowers.

"Groovy, right?" The man smiled proudly. He looked like a human version of the van, peace signs covering every inch of his skin. "I stole it from the government."

Carly's jaw dropped. "Your parents must be so proud," she muttered.

"I'm Joe," the hippie said. "So, what's wrong with your car?"

"We ran out of gas," Freddie explained. "We need to find a gas station."

Joe just stood there. "Yeah. Gas would help."

Sam sighed impatiently and crossed her arms. "Are you gonna help us or not? Isn't that your job?"

Joe nodded. "Yep."

Carly frowned. "Okay…so you're going to tow our car?"

Joe shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Freddie asked, confused.

Joe pointed at Sam and Freddie. "I'm getting a bad vibe from you two." He shuddered. "You guys have a lot of tension. _Sexual _tension."

Sam's jaw dropped. She and Freddie looked at each other, then at the ground quickly. They were both blushing. "There's nothing _between _us!" she argued, not looking at Freddie.

Freddie shook his head awkwardly. "No thing!"

Joe shrugged. "Denial isn't going to solve your issues. I can't tell if you want to kill each other or rip your clothes off."

Freddie opened his mouth but no words came out. He was getting an image in his head of Sam without any clothes on…where had _that _come from?

"Just bring us to a gas station!" Sam shouted, holding up her butter sock. "I've got butter and I'm not afraid to use it!"

"Can't," Joe refused, backing away. "That's bad karma."

Sam groaned in frustration and swung the butter sock. It hit Joe in the face, knocking him over. "It's not bad karma." She smirked. "It's bad _butter_!"

Carly ran over to Joe and stared down at him worriedly. "You knocked him out, Sam!" she gasped.

Sam grinned. "Good. Now we've got a ride."

Freddie looked at her, confused. "We still don't have gas," he told her.

Sam rolled her eyes. Why was everyone so stupid? "The unconscious hippie gave us _his _car."

"No…you hit him with butter."

Carly figured out what Sam's plan was. "We can't steal his van!"

"We're borrowing it," Sam said as she got into the driver's seat. Carly and Freddie just stood in the middle of the road. "Do you want to finish the road trip or not?"

**X**

Carly fell asleep in the back after an hour. It was the first time she didn't have to worry about Frothy, who was curled up in Sam's lap.

Freddie sat next to Sam, happy not to be driving. He could use this time to check his email or sleep…but he didn't. He was too distracted by what the crazy hippie had said. _Was _there a bad vibe between them? What did that even mean?

"He's wrong," Sam said suddenly as if she knew what he was thinking. Her eyes widened. "I mean about wanting to rip your clothes off!" She laughed nervously. "That was crazy."

"Right," Freddie agreed quietly. "Crazy. We're complete opposites. I would never be attracted to you. We're too different."

Sam didn't say anything. She just stared at the long road ahead until Freddie finally fell asleep. She hated to admit it, but he looked cute. Like an angel. "Opposites attract," she whispered.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to post! I've been busy with high school stuff…ugh.**

**Now things are finally getting interesting! Don't worry, they'll get to Canada in the next chapter. If Sam and Freddie are going to Niagara Falls…you know there will be trouble. **

**Anyone looking for Seddie songs? I found this a few days ago and thought the lyrics were SO perfect! Especially this part:**

_I'm on a fire escape where you said to wait_

_And I did, yes I did, oh_

_Heard the cold wind say you're a fool to stay_

_But I did, yes I did, oh_

**-Fire Escape by Matthew Mayfield **

**Sending a review adds ten years to your life! Don't believe me? Review and see for yourself!**


	6. Chapter 6: iKnow It Was You

**Chapter Six: Iknow It Was You**

**A/N: Sorry I took so long to update! But better late than never…enjoy!**

Sam glared at Freddie, who was sitting in a chair beside her. Even with a blanket wrapped around him he was shaking like a wet dog after being forced to endure a bath. "Could you stop that? You're getting me all wet." She rolled her eyes as Freddie ran a hand through his drenched hair, spraying droplets of water that landed on Sam's clothes. Great.

Through chattering teeth Freddie managed to grumble, "I'm deeply sorry my near death experience is such an inconvenience for you."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. You fell off a freaking boat. It's not like I locked you in a cage with a starved tiger with only a loaf of French bread to defend yourself."

"You'd do that, too, if you could. And why French bread? Couldn't you at least give me pumpernickel? At least then I'd stand a chance."

"What the hell difference does it make?"

Freddie heaved a sigh. "French bread is the softest of all the breads!"

"Just like your non-existent muscles. It's a perfect match."

"You're missing the point, Sam! I almost drowned because you pushed me overboard the Maid of the Mist! Do you even care?" Freddie demanded, getting angry now. He was completely overreacting. I wasn't sure how to respond. I'd never seen him like this before.

"Freddie, I-"

"Save it, Sam. I'm going to go find Carly. At least she cares about me. _She _saved my life today while all you can do is make jokes." He tossed the blanket aside and stormed off in search of Carly, who had gone to track down the break room while they waited in the police station to be interrogated.

Apparently pushing someone off a popular tourist attraction was frowned upon. Who knew?

"Whatever," Sam muttered as she watched Freddie walk away. It wasn't like she actually cared what he thought of her. She didn't have to explain anything to him. He already hated her. He always had. Trying to tell him the whole story was pointless. It was like he was deaf. He never heard a word she said. They were forever getting lost in translation.

Or maybe she had never tried to make him listen.

**X**

"I got you coffee with cream and sugar," Carly informed Freddie, handing him a steaming cup of black coffee. Freddie accepted it and smiled gratefully, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. He gagged and almost spit it back out. "Ugh! Hammer of Thor! What is this?"

Carly looked sheepish. "Instant coffee."

Freddie attempted to rub the foul taste off his tongue. "I need holy water to rinse this taste out of my mouth. There is evil inside that coffee!" he spluttered, choking and coughing. "The hands of Satan have touched that coffee!"

"No," Carly sighed, "the hands of some nice lady named Glenda touched the coffee. Everyone knows hospital cafeteria food is nothing to write home about." She laughed. "So, are you sure you're okay? You swallowed a lot of water when you fell overboard. I seriously thought you were going to drown for a second. I didn't know what to do…."

"Carly," he reassured her, "I'm fine, no thanks to Sam. If you hadn't jumped in to save me and given me CPR I'd be floating with the fish right about now. You saved my life. You're a good friend."

Carly wouldn't meet Freddie's eyes. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets and bit her lip nervously, engaged in an internal argument with herself. Should she tell him the truth? Or would that only make things worse between him and Sam? Carly hated being in the middle of their drama. She was tired of always playing the referee. It was a thankless job. And she didn't even get a complimentary whistle for her troubles!

Freddie could tell there was something she wasn't telling him. "What is it, Carls?" he asked, confused. "Is it the coffee? Is it decaf? You can tell me if it is. Our friendship will suffer a major setback but I'll get over it after a few months."

"I think you should talk to Sam. You two need to work things out." Her wide brown eyes were pleading with me. "She doesn't know about your heart condition. If you ever bothered to tell her she never would have pushed you."

"I don't want her to know! Sam is relentless! She makes my life a living hell already. Why would I want to give her more ammunition?"

"Because she cares about you! She feels bad about what happened, Freddie. I can tell."

"Yeah, she regrets not finishing me off! She's just upset I didn't drown at Niagara. Now she can't take a picture of my waterlogged corpse and use it as this year's Christmas card!"

"Sam doesn't even write Christmas cards!"

Freddie grimaced. "I know! Last year all she did was knock on my door, and when I opened it she hurled a fruit cake at my face! _A fruit cake! _Those things are rock-solid!"

"Spencer gave ours to a stray cat we found last winter. It keeled over after an hour. Spencer was afraid Animal Control would come an arrest us so he took the cat and got on his motorcycle. He came back a week later and made me vow never to talk about it."

"You come from a very dysfunctional family."

"So do you," Carly reminded him. "And so does Sam. Now go work things out with her while I tell the police that you're so clumsy you tripped over your own shoelaces and fell overboard. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can salvage what's left of this psychotic road trip."

Freddie shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. He was dreading this conversation with Sam. He just didn't know how to talk to her anymore. All he knew how to do was fight back; insults flying, screaming so loud they woke everyone within a fifty-mile radius, constantly at each other's throats-he was good at that. Sure, she was better, but Freddie was comfortable with their strained relationship. He had never questioned where he stood with Sam before.

But since this unfortunate road trip had begun…he'd reacted differently. Everything she said made him angry. Everything she did made him crazy. Every look she gave him, like her aquamarine blue eyes could see straight through him, he wanted more. He wanted-no, he _needed-_to be close to her. He needed to feel her warm touch on his skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Freddie didn't dare try explaining his innermost thoughts to Sam, though. That was a train wreck waiting to happen. He was merely a punching bag to her. A way to save money on a gym membership. As much as he wanted more…staying at arm's length was best for them both. It maintained the fragile balance.

"Hey." Sam smirked as he entered the waiting room. She was still sitting in the same chair as when he left. Those blue orbs peeked up at him from beneath thick black lashes. "How goes it?"

Freddie grinned. "Instant coffee will plague my nightmares tonight."

"That's supposed to be my job," Sam teased, giving him a small smile. It never reached her eyes.

"Yeah, well…" Freddie ran a hand through his dark, damp hair and Sam inhaled suddenly. She felt her heart lurch somewhere inside of her. Traitor. "There's room for you, too, Puckett." _If you want it._

Sam had to grip the sides of the chair to keep from tearing her hair out. God! Wasn't he aware of how maddening he was? Did he know the slightest move he made had her head spinning?

Their eyes locked, hard sapphire versus warm chocolate, and Sam forgot how to breathe. She forgot to hold up the protective walls around her at all times. She forgot who she was.

"I'm not so good at sharing," Sam mumbled, hiding her face from his hypnotizing eyes behind a curtain of dirty blonde hair. She silently prayed for death to come quickly. Anything to end the deafening silence between them. Spontaneous combustion would be pretty good right about now.

"Sam?" Freddie took a step closer, until he was right in front of her.

"Yes?" Sam cringed when her voice came out soft and vulnerable. She felt her chest tighten as Freddie reached up to brush a strand of her from her face, his hand lingering in her tangled hair.

"I know it was you who pulled me out of the water."


	7. Chapter 7: iUnknown

**Chapter Seven: iUnknown**

_From: Unknown_

_To: Sam_

_The road is long and in the end…the journey is the destination_

I stared down at the the strange text message on my phone and frowned. What the heck? Who was this person? And why were they sending me random texts at four a.m?

"Freak," I muttered under my breath as I deleted the message and settled back into the leather seats of the eighties Love Machine van we'd "borrowed" from a hippie (He thinks _I _have bad Karma? He was hit over the head with a butter sock, and then his van was stolen by rambunctious teenagers and one sexually active cat).

I felt my eyes drifting shut, so I turned off my phone, the only source of light in the car at the moment. The glowing screen of my iPear went black, leaving me in utter darkness. I blinked a few times while my eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light.

Trying to sleep while curled up with my knees against my chest and my ribs poking my lungs was incredibly uncomfortable. It felt like a five-hundred-pound Sumo wrestler was body-slamming me against the front seat. It helped if I pretended I was winning the fight, though. I was on the verge of letting sleep drag me down into unconcsiousness when I heard snoring coming from my left.

"Freddie!" I screeched loudly, bolting up instantly. My eyes flew open as I reached out blindly through the darkness and shoved Freddie hard in what I prayed was his shoulder. "Wake up!"

"Just a few more minutes, mom…I haven't finished my asparagus," mumbles Freddie in his sleep. His head hangs low and his grip on the steering wheel loosens. His foot is no longer on the brakes.

"Damn it, Freddie, I hope you have the Lord on speed dial! You're gonna need the help of a Divine Force when I'm through with you if you get us killed!"

Freddie's eyes opened halfway. "Sam? Is that you?" he asks sleepily. It's a wonder how this boy remembers how to get dressed in the mornings.

"No, idiot," I snap bitterly, "it's the frickin' Pope! But I get mistaken for him all the time. I can see how you might be confused."

"Yeah, its definitely you, Sam." I think Freddie is silently laughing at me as he rubs his eyes and blinks, trying to wake up.

"Don't take your hands off the wheel!" I shriek, reaching for the steering wheel before we crash into an oncoming truck. I lean over his body as I strain to see the road in the dark.

"Ow! Seriously, this again? Exactly how many lap dances am I gonna have to endure on this road trip?"

"Oh, shut up, nub!" I wrestle with him for control of the wheel as Freddie slams his foot down on the accelerator, and we speed past cars while they blare their horns at us and shout unrepeatable things to us. But, hey, I've heard worse in the back of my mom's minivan.

"Get off me, Puckett! _I _am sitting in the driver's seat right now! That makes me the designated driver!"

I snort. "Aw, cute. Did your mother stitch that on a pillow for you?"

"Don't bring my mother into this! You know she thinks pillows are unsanitary! What, you think I've been sleeping pillowless for the past seventeen years because I _enjoy _it?"

"How should I know? I don't come into your room and watch you sleep! I have better things to do."

"Yeah, like what?" Freddie counters. "Screw with guys whose names you don't bother to learn?"

I am so startled by his accusation that I jerk the wheel sharply to the right; the car lurches forward, narrowly avoiding a collision with some old lady in a little green car.

"Oh, look, that old lady is telling us we're number one," I laugh.

"No, actually I think she's giving us the-"

"Yeah, yeah." I cast a sideways glance at him, still shocked and somewhat hurt by what he said to me earlier. Does he really think I spend my nights hooking up with random guys? That's my mother, not me. She's too drunk to hold down a real job.

I don't know why I'm so surprised Freddie has assumed I sleep around a lot. Anyone else would think the same thing if they saw a different man leave my house every morning. Only I've never thought about what Freddie must think of that. I never really cared before, so I can't understand why it bothers me now.

It's probably for the best anyway. If Freddie knew the real truth, that I'm still a virgin, he will never let me live it down. I'll have to kill him to keep him quiet and bury him in a Jewish cemetery where no one will ever find him.

"Sorry I fell asleep," Freddie says sheepishly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"You should be," is all I say. I think maybe he wants me to forgive him or apologize too, and that will never happen as long as hell is hot as…well, hell.

"You know, I was in the middle of a really great dream before you woke me up with your maniacal screaming," Freddie says quietly. He notices me shudder. "What?"

"Just thinking about what it must be like inside your head. It's not a pleasant thought," I admit teasingly. "But since I'm still recovering from our near-death experience, you might as well tell me about your little dream."

"So the gentle sound of my voice will lull you to sleep?"

"So your voice will remind me there are worse things than death."

"Nice one, Puckett."

"Couldn't resist."

"So, in my dream I'm walking through a field of daisies-"

"You're such a _girl_," I interrupt, smirking.

"Would you just let me finish?" Freddie sighs. "So I'm walking through a field of manly things, such as cologne and football, and there's a tree in the middle of the field. There's a girl standing underneath it, and she's saying something to me, but I can't hear what it is, and I can't see who the girl is. Every time I try to get closer something pulls me back."

We sit in silence for a long time after he finishes, both of us perfectly content to say nothing at all. He's too busy thinking about what his dreams means and I'm wondering who the girl is. He must mean Carly. It can't be anyone else. Freddie has never loved anyone else, as far as I know.

_I got over Carly a long a time ago. I don't love her. _

"Yeah, right," I whisper to myself. "And I don't love fried chicken."

"Did you say something?" Freddie asks.

"I said you're a freaking chicken."

"Thanks for letting me know," Freddie chuckles, but the laughter never reaches his dark eyes. They remain somber as he focuses on the open road ahead, stretching out for miles. We have miles to go.

"The road is long…and in the end the journey is the destination," I whisper, thinking of the anonymous text I received. It's kind of creepy how perfect that quote is for my life right now. But how did this "Unknown" person know?

"Sam?"

"Yes, nub?" I shove my phone deep in my pocket and push the mysterious text out of my mind.

"Are you going to be sitting on my lap until we stop for breakfast? We've got another ten miles or so to go."

"Well, someone has to keep you awake."

"You know, if a dog jumps in your lap it means she's fond of you."

"Good thing I'm a cat person."

I settle back against Freddie's chest, surprised by how comfortable I feel. I'm on his freaking _lap. _His hands are practically wrapped around me as he steers the wheel. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, and it sends chills racing up and down my spine.

He smells like cherries and cinnamon buns.

_From: Unknown_

_To: Sam_

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained. _

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since my last update! I've been busy with color guard and studying for final exams ): **

**Who do you think "Uknown" is? How does this person know Sam? What do you think the texts mean? **


End file.
